To Walk Onward
by R.Firefly
Summary: His name is Death. Before that, he was someone else. GEN
1. The Mysterious Stranger

**Summary: His name is Death. Before that, he was someone else. GEN**

**Taken place after the movie.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Rise of the Guardians.**

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Chapter 1: The Mysterious Stranger

Jack Frost flew through the icy wind, his hand tightly holding onto his staff. His sharp, piercing laughter echoed in the night. Shrouded in moonlight, he landed on the rooftop with feather-like steps. A wide grin formed across his pale face. He pulled an object out of his pocket and hid it behind his back, walking to the edge.

"Jamie?" He floated in front of the window, knocking the glass lightly. "You awake?"

"Jack…?" A boy with brown hair blinked at Jack Frost, not fully awake. A bright smile plastered on his face when the name finally registered inside his head as he scrambled out of the bed and started towards the window. "You're here!"

Jack Frost entered the room after Jamie let him in. He carefully made sure that his friend didn't see the object in his hand. In a joking tone, he said, "Of course, I'm here. Who else would bring snow when winter comes?"

"Well, it'd been months since I last saw you. I thought…" He fidgeted. His gaze was locked onto the floor.

Jack's face softened. Did he not know what he meant to him? "Hey, squirt."

Jamie looked up.

"I'll always come back. You and your friends are the only ones who can see me after all. And, that's something special to me…"

Jamie blushed, a warming feeling filling him. "Okay."

Jack coughed, suddenly embarrassed. He wasn't good at this sort of stuff. The _emotional_ kind. He rubbed his neck with his free hand. "Now that the mushy moment is done with."

He pulled out his other hand from his back and placed the object onto Jamie's palm. He smirked smugly as he saw the boy's eyes widen with disbelief and wonder.

"Wow," Jamie whispered, looking at crystal ball made of ice. It felt cold. "This is amazing. Did you make this?"

"Yeah," Jack replied. "I was messing around with my staff one day and _poof _this formed. Do you like it?"

"Do I like it?!" Jack's smile faltered, but Jamie didn't seem to notice. "Of course, I love it!"

Jack beamed a bright smile and let out a relieved sigh. "That's great. I-I mean, not that I was worried. I knew you would like it. Who doesn't like a globe made up of ice?"

Jamie snickered. He knew that Jack had indeed worried about his possible reaction to his present. It was sweet of the mythical being to care. "Thanks, Jack."

Jack froze and then let out a small laugh. "Wait, there's more." As soon as he said that, he let his staff tap the ball. Snowy figures that looked exactly like Jamie and his friends formed inside the globe.

"Sweet," Jamie said. He walked towards his desk and pull out a drawer, placing the object inside with care. "I shouldn't let my parents see it, though. They might get suspicious. I'll show it to Sophie later."

Jack hummed approvingly. He glanced at the moon. "I should get going." He hastily added when Jamie opened his mouth to protest, "It's past midnight, Jamie. Kids like you need their sleep."

His eyes glittered teasingly. "Unless you don't want to grow any taller than you are now."

Jamie pouted but yielded. "Alright, you win. Will I see you tomorrow?"

Jack grinned at the hopeful tone of Jamie's voice. "See you tomorrow, squirt."

"I'm not a squirt," the boy responded without heat. He made way to his bed, letting out a yawn.

The winter spirit pointed his staff towards the window, opening it. He floated to the outside and made sure to close it afterwards. Giving the boy who was already fast asleep a final glance, he flied upwards.

He gazed at the neighborhood with a fond expression before opening his mouth to call the wind to take him home. However, no sound came. Jack had noticed a dark shadowy figure that seemed too inhuman walking through the street. Jack felt a chill which was odd since he was unaffected by coldness.

"What… is that?" His eyebrows furrowed the sight. Tilting his head, he slowly coasted downwards. Something in the back of his mind told him to leave immediately. But a larger part of him that was full of mischievousness and fun made him draw closer.

The figure's image became clearer as the distance between Jack and he reduced. Hiding behind a wall, Jack slowly positioned his head around the building while the rest of his body remained concealed. Jack's lips parted as the air grew heavier and heavier. He wondered if the stranger was doing all this.

When the figure stepped under the lamplight, the first thing that Jack noticed about his new object of interest was that he was a child. Well, although he looked like a child, he felt like someone ancient.

_Is he a spirit as well….?_

The child wore a robe (which was saying much), covering most of his tiny form. It made it harder to pick up his physical attributes. The only traits distinguishable were his boyish face, messy hair, and old – _really_ old – eyes.

His eyes were beautiful though, in a tragic sort of way. They were green but Jack saw something more beyond the color.

He couldn't tell what exactly which surprisingly frustrated him.

His body screamed at him to leave. That the being was dangerous despite his seemingly innocent appearance.

But instead of relenting, Jack stepped out of the dark alley and into the child's field of vision.

The smaller boy didn't seem surprised to see him, his expression blank.

_I guess he noticed me then._

Jack felt a bit wary at that and placed his staff protectively in front of him. Still, his eagerness to find out who this mysterious stranger was did not stump him.

"Hi there, I'm Jack Frost. What's yours?"

Really. There was no going back…

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**A/N: There will be no slash. Friendships, sure. But no romance. This fic is purely GEN.**


	2. Nighttime Conversation Part 1

**Summary: His name is Death. Before that, he was someone else. GEN**

**Taken place after the movie.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Rise of the Guardians.**

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"Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it."  
― Haruki Murakami, _Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman: 24__ Stories_

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Chapter 2: Nighttime Conversation Part 1

Jack didn't do squirm. He wasn't the type to falter under anyone's gaze. But, for some implausible reason, he couldn't meet the boy's intense eyes. There was tense silence hanging in the air. Jack wondered if he hadn't been heard and quickly plastered a forced smile.

He opened his mouth to reintroduce himself when a voice interrupted him.

"May I help you?"

Jack blinked as he took in the childish voice that rang with politeness. He knew it belonged to the boy but he had a hard time connecting that someone whose appearance was that of a child could be so disgustedly well-mannered.

"Uh…" Nice, Jack. Really eloquent.

The small figure tilted his head, his accessing gaze never lifting from Jack's form.

Boy, did he feel exposed.

"You've been watching me." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yeah," Jack coughed, trying to pull his composure together. He stepped forwards but immediately halted when something flickered across the child's face. "I never saw you before, so I got curious. You're a spirit, right?"

A strong urge to smack himself washed over him. Really? Of course, he was a spirit. What else could he be?

The boy gave a short nod after a pause. He took several steps backwards, out of the light and into the darkness. Jack caught sight of something red and yellow during the movement. It looked like a crest of some kind hanging on his robe. "And you're Jack Frost."

Jack smiled, and this time it wasn't forced. "That's me, all right. Don't wear it out."

He was somewhat disappointed when he got no reaction to his teasing. Jack inwardly sighed. For someone who looked about nine, he sure didn't act like one. In a placating tone, he said, "I didn't get your name. It's not fair if you know mine and I don't know yours."

"I've heard about you," whispered the child, evading Jack's probing for his name. "You became a Guardian." His eyebrows furrowed in thought. "…a year ago, I believe."

The air became overwhelmingly dense that Jack's breathing became slightly shallow. He tried not to show it. What was this boy doing to him? He cockily smirked. "Huh, I guess I'm famous now. You've been gossiping with your friends or something?"

He just received a raised eyebrow in return.

The boy muttered, "The shadows whisper…"

Okay, now that was a bit eerie.

"Uh-huh," was the only thing Jack could say. He leaned on his staff while shooting his mysterious stranger a disbelieving look.

He _really_ hoped that he was someone good and not evil.

When Jack was about to speak, he was once again interfered.

The green-eyed child who had glanced at the dark sky with a wistful look let out a soft sigh. He spared Jack a brief glance before declaring in a hushed voice, "I must go. You and I talked long enough, I suppose. I can't waste time."

Jack jerked, surprised. His hand lurched forward on its own accord. "Wait!"

The boy vanished.

"I didn't get your name…"

The only good thing from his departure was the ability to breath normally again.

The bad thing?

Jack's curiosity was further peaked.

And, a curious Jack Frost was a persistent Jack Frost.

* * *

Death floated through the wall with ease, putting on his hood to cover most of his face. He stood near the bedside and ignored the fierce growl coming from a large dog. Animals were sensitive to the supernatural, for some reason. It wasn't rare to see one snarling or whimpering at the sight of him.

He knew his presence usually caused discomfort.

The dog quieted when Death gave the creature a brief glance.

Gazing at the old man lying on the mattress, he waited patiently.

The sound of the clock ticking filled the silence. It was peaceful.

The human let out his last breath.

Death wore an impassive expression as the old man's soul took its human shape. There was a dazed look in the elder's eyes, not really seeing Death yet at the same time staring at him.

He held out his small hand. There was a slight uncertainty on the man's face but it soon cleared in resignation.

The man placed his wrinkly hand onto the boy's palm.

Slowly, the child pulled out his wand from his sleeve and pointed it towards his charge's forehead.

A bright light filled the room.

His job was done.

* * *

Jack watched Jamie and his friends throw snowballs at each other across the yard, once in a while joining in the fun. However, he was distracted today.

His thoughts kept jumping to the spirit he met last night.

He didn't think it would be _that_ obvious until Jamie pulled him aside and called him on it.

"Is something wrong?" asked Jamie, sounding worried. "You don't look that much into this. It isn't like you."

Jack shot the boy a reassuring smile. "Nah, I was just thinking what prank I should pull on Bunny. We're having our usual meeting next week." He made a face. "I bet North wants us to help him test out his toys."

It wasn't a lie exactly. He had thought about that few days ago.

Jamie's concerned face was replaced by excitement. "Oh! What are you going to pull?"

Jack smirked mischievously. It wasn't news that Bunny was his usual target for pranks. It'd didn't help when the rabbit's reactions were so interesting.

"I'm still thinking. Tell you what? You'll be the first one I'll tell when I decide on one."

The conversation soon drifted to another subject, their voices mingling as they went back to join the others.

Before conjuring up several snowballs, Jack promised himself to patrol around the neighborhood for the spirit tonight.

For now, he would put other thoughts besides Jamie behind.

After all, Jamie was more important.

* * *

He looked at the alarm clock. It was almost 10 PM.

Good. Jamie was fast asleep.

Jack crept out the window, breathing in the fresh air. The winter breeze was mildly comforting.

His eyes flashed wickedly. He shot across the sky, his eyes searching for the familiar blob below. Jack could feel the adrenaline pumping in him.

His tongue rolled on his bottom lip.

It was time to give a special welcome for the new arrival in Burgess.

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**A/N: Quick update, I know. If you notice any grammar mistakes, please feel free to tell me. Thank you.**


	3. Nighttime Conversation Part 2

**Summary: His name is Death. Before that, he was someone else. GEN**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Rise of the Guardians. **

**A/N: It'd been so long since I updated. So sorry. I'm not going to lie. I was being lazy for the last few months. **

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Chapter 3: Nighttime Conversation Part 2

A figure was perched on the branch of a tree with his arm wrapped around one knee while the other hung loosely in the air. He felt the flutter of his robes as the night breeze blew against his petite form. The darkness and the silence enticingly enclosed him like a cocoon. They felt soothing. A piece of calmness settled in the pit of his stomach.

He kept his eyes closed, firmly ignoring the blaring presence of the Moon. He could feel its overwhelming light despite the leaves shielding him in the shadows.

"Hello, Jack," murmured Death, his soft voice filling the stillness. He felt rather than see a movement behind him. "Do you need anything?"

"How did you know it was me?"

His eyes still closed, he replied, "I just knew it was you."

A snort made its way up Jack's throat. The winter spirit flew around the tree and in front of the small boy but not close enough for one to be alarmed. There was a hint of amusement in his tone. "You're weird."

It was an honest remark. Death shrugged, not at least offended. His raven locks dusted his eyelids at the movement.

Jack observed the boy, taking in his serene appearance with blatant curiosity. He had been planning to take the other spirit by surprise just for the heck of it so it was disappointing that he was found out quickly. It was daunting really.

A thought came to him. Jack tried to suppress the smirk that was growing on his face. Thankfully, it wasn't noticed since the black-haired spirit had his eyes shut. He silently flexed his staff, casting his winter magic. A snowball instantly formed in his hand.

If it hadn't been for Death's hyper awareness, he wouldn't have moved his head quickly to the side. The snowball had hit the bark, the sound of _crunch_ echoing in his ears.

He opened his eyes, revealing their brilliant green orbs. There was slight puzzlement in his gaze as they landed on Jack's smile bordering on mischievousness.

"Huh," huffed the Guardian, sounding as if he committed the biggest failure of his life. "I didn't think you would dodge."

Death raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical for the first time. He didn't know what to make of Jack's antics.

Before he could say anything whatsoever, Jack conjured up more snowballs. Death's shoulders slightly rose, tensing. The winter spirit's grin came back full-force with vengeance.

"Well, at least I know you're a _challenge_."

He dodged several more snowballs, flying through the forest while avoiding trees. Jack's laughter reverberated in the night.

Death didn't get why the Guardian was doing this. It made no sense to him whatsoever. The last person who chased him like this… He shook his head. Images of shadows clashing one another and gold eyes flashed across his eyes. That incident was way more dangerous and deadly. It had been no way friendly and playful like this one.

When he found himself in a clearing, he didn't expect to see a frozen pond. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight. It looked familiar but he didn't know why.

"Hey! Why did you stop?" yelled out Jack, his form coming out of the darkness.

The two apparitions were shrouded in moonlight, their physical features more aparrent. Death couldn't help but compare Jack as ice as the winter spirit's hair shined more brilliantly than usual.

A dawning expression adored Jack's face as he took in his surroundings. He glanced at the ice below him and at the trees around them. A sheepish look soon replaced his previous expression as his gaze finally met the boy's.

Death pulled his hood over his face, feeling self-conscious of the clarity of his appearance. His face blank, he glanced somewhat curiously around him. "You know this place?"

"Umm… yeah, I uh live here," muttered Jack.

Something flashed across Death's face. "Really?" he asked softly, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

Jack heard it though. "Yep," he replied.

Death wondered why Jack sounded hesitant and almost embarrassed. Hesitant, he understood because who else could be comfortable with some stranger knowing where he lived. But, Death didn't get why the Guardian was embarrassed.

He kept his body still, fighting down the urge to shift. The whole familiarity of the dwelling screamed at him as if this place should mean something to him.

"…I like it," he said finally, gazing at his reflection on the frozen water. He didn't notice Jack's pleased look. "It's quiet and nice."

"Isn't it?" asked Jack excitedly. There was a bounce in his movements as he landed on the pond. With a well flourished bow, he said, "Welcome to my dwelling, my… uhh… You know, you've never told me your name. "

Death's lips pursed. He opened his mouth but no words came through. He didn't know if he should tell the other boy his name. Would he pale with terror? Run away before Death could explain… explain what exactly?

He was discomforted with himself for suddenly caring about the other's reaction. Jack was different from other spirits he watched from afar or crossed paths with. He had this air of approachability… a speck of light that he couldn't help but be drawn to. Jack was the first spirit that he ever confronted (well, been confronted by was more like it) in a while.

Suddenly, he physically and mentally withdrew. He began to lock his emotions tight, his expression neutral. "I... have to go."

Jack blinked, startled. "What? You have to go right now?" He sputtered. "You didn't even tell your name."

Death turned. He ignored the sight of the Moon and drew closer to the utter darkness cast by the trees. "I'm sorry, Jack Frost. But we must never meet again."

Quickly, he apparated, leaving Jack alone and confused. And strangely empty.


	4. Voices of Long Ago

**Author's Note: Hello, Readers! It'd been far so long. Please excuse my absence. I've been busy with college, exams, and a job. I'll probably write more since I'm on break now, and maybe I'll write another story. There is one I've been thinking of writing. It's another GEN fic with Harry Potter as the main protagonist. There will be politics, power struggle, and mind games. **

**Anyway, enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and The Rise of the Guardians.**

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Chapter 4: Voices of Long Ago

His head pounded as he rested a hand on something brittle and rough, his small shoulders hunching. Death didn't know where he was exactly, too nauseous and faint to take in his surroundings. There were flashes of red, brown, and yellow exploding silently behind his eyes.

Echoes of childish laughter reverberated in his ears. They were almost nostalgic but far out of his reach for him to place them as if they were buried too deep and thus unable to be dug out.

_arry…_

_Harry…_

_Harry!_

Their voices called out to him. Haunted him. Clung to him. A sudden surge of yearning swelled inside him, accompanied by loss and grief. Death felt consumed by these feelings… this mixture of longing and sadness. He felt overwhelmed, something he had never experienced since he accepted his role long ago. Moreover, he felt confused, panicked, and dangerously on edge. The ground beneath his feet was caving, and he feared he would have nothing to hold onto before his legs buckle.

What's happening to him?

"…Master?"

The noises stopped.

But, Death was still _feeling_.

"Make it stop," he whispered, a plea mingled in his voice.

He didn't look at the creature, didn't need to for he was always sensitive to the presence of others; the creature, more so, because it was part of him, a second half of his soul. The figure drew closer, silent like air. A claw-like finger (_long_ and _ghastly_) traced his cheek almost soothingly. The emotions that clashed inside him instantly withdrew, like water being drained out of a small sink. He could finally breathe properly.

Breath in. Breath out.

"Do you feel better, Master?"

Death leaned against the tree, still as a statue. He looked at the ground, his eyes hidden beneath his bangs. "…Yes, thank you."

The silence dragged on but there was no uncomfortableness. There was only eerily calm.

"What happened?" he asked. "I never felt anything like that before. And those voices…" _Who did they belong to? ...Whose Harry? _But he did know. Or, at least, he had an idea.

His chin jerked upwards. His green eyes met the creature's own (Or where they should be. All he saw was the darkness beneath its hood). Death didn't say anything about the sudden close proximity; he could practically feel the heavy breath on his face.

"I felt your pain," the cloaked-shadowy figure began, "You were _remembering_. You were recalling _things_."

Death faintly heard the rustling of leaves (He felt the soft ground, smelled the earth, and – _Ahh… I'm still in the woods_). Sometime shuddered inside him (_Is that my soul?_) "You mean memories of the time when I was… human." His words were more of a statement than a question.

_So I was right._

A soft sigh escaped him, and he subconsciously leans towards the creature. His forehead now rested on its shoulder.

"I only numbed your emotions. Closed off your memories. Made the ties cut." A pause. "Why now? What made this happen? Did something cause this, Master?"

"I don't know. I… was in this place." He didn't know why he didn't mention his meeting with Jack Frost. He just didn't, and so, he didn't question it. His mind was already weak and tired. Thinking was beyond him in his current state. "It looked familiar and I have no clue why. And then… I felt _overwhelmed_."

The creature knew that his master was withholding something from him but didn't comment. He clasped his long fingers around Death's small body, hovering over him as if to shield him from the world.

"Don't worry. I make you forget." The cloak expanded, its fabric wrapping around Death. "No more pain. No more feelings."

Death nodded, although a small part of him protested at being treated as if he was made of glass that could shatter at any point in time. He could feel himself slipping out of focus. He was already half-asleep.

The last thing he heard before falling into darkness was…

"You're Master of Death. _My_ master. I will keep you safe. Sleep and forget."

* * *

The creature materialized out of the darkness with its master whom slept within its cloak. The figure glided through the hallway; as they passed antique iron candle sconces came to life casting dim light and eerie shadows upon tapestry-covered walls. Without halting, it reached the double doors that opened on their own accord as if reading its will.

The lavish bedroom was large and unnaturally cold. On the opposite side of the doors, there were enormous windows covered by crimson drapes. A golden carpet concealed the floor; and wooden desk and chair stood beside the four poster bed.

After carefully resting Death on the bed, the creature pulled the wand out of its master's sleeves. It ran its finger along the wooden, smooth surface, feeling the spark of power swirling inside at its touch. Blue light arose from the wand's tip, enveloping the room in its color. Mist of figures and objects emerged, soaring around the room.

The creature watched silently as he saw the foggy figure of a lean boy alongside with its master. It saw them interacting in the street of some neighborhood. The boy curious. And Death indifferent yet cautious. The scene then changed. The buildings turned into trees, and the ground turned into frozen water.

It observed the moving pictures, silent and still.

Finally, the blue light disappeared as well as the mist.

There was only the sound of soft breathing.

"…Jack Frost. So those two have finally met."

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**So... The creature is the previous Death. The title was given to Harry after he became the Master of Death.**

**Next chapter: The meeting between Guardians, prank, and a brooding Jack.**


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